


tolerate it

by ymnfilter



Series: ♬♩♪♩ you can fall in love to it ♩♪♩♬ [1]
Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who & Related Fandoms, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: BAMF Rose Tyler, Based on a Taylor Swift Song, F/M, Song: Tolerate It, also, but it's mostly cathartic, especially not someone as dumb as GiTF doctor, fuck you moffat, independent rose, rose tyler needs no man, the dreaded GiTF fic, this maybe angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-24
Updated: 2021-02-24
Packaged: 2021-03-15 00:09:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,977
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29675406
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ymnfilter/pseuds/ymnfilter
Summary: Post-GitF fic (it almost seems like writing a fic based on this episode is some kind of a fandom rite of passage lmao)Rose Tyler realizes maybe she's a bit too in over her head with her feelings for the Doctor. She decides she's going to deal with it.
Relationships: Ninth Doctor/Rose Tyler, Tenth Doctor/Rose Tyler, The Doctor (Doctor Who)/Rose Tyler
Series: ♬♩♪♩ you can fall in love to it ♩♪♩♬ [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2193549
Comments: 32
Kudos: 105





	tolerate it

**Author's Note:**

> I do very very highly recommend reading this fic with Taylor Swift's tolerate it playing in the background. 
> 
> I also hope this makes you at least a little teary eyed ;)
> 
> other than that, HAPPY (psych!) READING!
> 
> p.s. you can find me on:
> 
> tumblr:[ @ymnfilter ](https://ymnfilter.tumblr.com)  
> twitter:[ @ymnfilter ](https://twitter.com/ymnfilter)

_I sit and watch you reading with your head low,_

_I wake and watch you breathing with your eyes closed,_

_I sit and watch you,_

_I notice everything you do or don't do._

_You're so much older and wiser and I-_

  
  


She finds him in the library completely by mistake. She'd just been trying to get away from Mickey and his knowing, smug looks that he's been throwing her way since they came back to the ship and had thought that the last place he would think to come find her in was the library. Only, she's just about to enter when she realises it's not empty like she'd hoped. 

The Doctor's in there, sprawled over one of the sofas with a book on his lap, but that isn't what he's reading. There's a letter in his hand, and for someone who consumes literature at the speed of lightning, she knows he's been staring at it for too long to be actually reading it. 

She doesn't need three guesses to know who it's from. 

The thing is, Rose thinks she has always sort of known. It seems so obvious when you think about it in facts, 

The Doctor: Nine bloody hundred years old, alien with two hearts, quite possibly the most intelligent person in the entire universe. 

Rose Tyler: Nineteen, from the estates, haven't even got her A levels because she ran away from home on the whims of a boy. 

She can't possibly have convinced herself that she would be able to hold his attention for long. Not when there are so many women out there who are just _more._ More beautiful, more mature, more accomplished. Women like Sarah Jane Smith or Madame de Pompadour. 

And yet she'd gone and done exactly that.

Because he'd come back for her when she'd told him 'no' the first time around.

Because he'd confessed to her, a bit broken and a whole lot more alone, 'there's no one else' and she'd implored, after knowing him for less than a day, 'there's me'.

Because he'd made her feel special and brilliant and loved and she'd given away her heart to him even when it should've belonged to somebody else. 

_I wait by the door like I'm just a kid,_

_Use my best colors for your portrait,_

_Lay the table with the fancy shit,_

_And watch you tolerate it._

She watches him now and he folds up the letter and places it somewhere in the middle of his book, his eyes closing as he leans his head back against the armrest. He looks tired. Like he's been aged another hundred years in the span of a day. It's a look she's familiar with but not really. Not that face. He had looked the same after Utah and the dalek in Van Statten's bunker. Back when he had those big ears and the loveliest eyes. 

She'd made him tea then. Found him tinkering down under the console with that look on his face and she'd made him a cuppa, unwilling to leave his side even when he hadn't wanted to talk to her at all. 

They had ended up spending three hours in silence, him sipping his tea with Rose's hand in his, and by the time he'd walked her to her room and wished her a good night, he had looked a bit lighter. 

She doesn't want to make him tea now, she's realising. She just wants to run away. 

She's barely managed to take half a step back when he turns his head, and those dark, tired, age-old eyes meeting hers, 

"Rose?" 

"Sorry. I didn't know you were here. I was just leaving."

"You don't have to." He blinks when she doesn't move, either in or out, and then silently motions for her to join him. 

_If it's all in my head tell me now,_

_Tell me I've got it wrong somehow,_

_I know my love should be celebrated,_

_But you tolerate it._

She does, hesitating for what feels like the first time in his company. She feels like she's on a shaky ground with him. No, it feels like she's on a shaky ground by herself, and she's going to fall any moment, and she's going to fall alone. 

She bypasses the space on the couch next to him, instead taking a seat on the armchair placed perpendicular to it. The Doctor doesn't say a word, but he does extend his legs back again from where he'd made space for her.

From here, she can read the title of the book he'd been reading, 

Madame De Pompadour. A Biography. 

Because that's the kind of woman she was. Someone people wrote books about. 

The _real_ stuff of legend. 

"Are you okay?" Rose flinches at the question, eyes going back to meet the Doctor's. She can't read this one as well as she used to be able to read her first Doctor. Like all the progress she'd made has been wiped away along with all the other changes that came with regeneration.

She manages to give him a small smile anyway. This Doctor, somehow she doesn't think he can read her as well as the previous one did either, "I should be asking you that. Are you alright?" 

"Me? I'm always alright." That same cocky smile that he had been wearing two weeks ago while they were dealing with the werewolf flashes on his face again. It had made butterflies flutter in her chest then. She had seen it as a sign of progress. Of healing. She sees it now as yet another defense mechanism he's placed to distance himself from her, and the butterflies die under the weight of the lump that's formed at the base of her throat.

They sit quietly, nothing like the comfortable silences they had shared before. This one feels suffocating. Or maybe it's just her. Because nothing has changed for the Doctor. Not really. She's the one who has been living in her fantasies for all this time. 

The Doctor has always called her his mate. And that's all she's ever been. She'd just thought- because of how close she had been with him before he had changed, and how he had never really paid much attention to any women except her back then, 

She had just thought that all the touching and the flirting had meant something. 

It's clear now, that that's just the kind of bloke he is this time around. Openly affectionate with everybody. And a bit too long hug here, or a cuddle in the library there, didn't really mean much to him at all.

_I greet you with a battle hero's welcome,_

_I take your indiscretions all in good fun,_

_I sit and listen,_

_I polish plates until they gleam and glisten_

_You're so much older and wiser and I-_

"I wanted to thank you." The Doctor says, breaking the silence suddenly, "For waiting for me. Thank you."

She smiles back, doesn't really say anything. It's not like she'd had any choice in the matter. He'd been straddling a white horse and quite literally galloping out of her life before she'd had the chance to get a word in edgewise. She would've waited for him her whole life, because that's what her life would've turned into. Just waiting for him. 

She doesn't need to say any of those words for him to hear them anyway. He frowns, as if he knows exactly what she's thinking, then straightens up so they're facing each other properly. His hands look empty and searching, as if he's waiting for her own to intertwine with his. But her own are too busy keeping her heart in one piece to support anybody else in that moment, 

"I would've come for you, Rose. In any way I could."

"I know." It feels like a lie on her tongue, and he doesn't look much like he believes her either. But, she's sure if she argues with him now she'll end up crying. And she doesn't want to look anymore like a lost child than she already does, so she changes the subject, "Besides, it's important, isn't it? Preserving the past. It's your job."

His brows furrow, as if he's just now realising there's something worse going on right below the surface, but he can't quite see it yet, "Yes but, so are you, Rose. You're important."

And she is. She knows she is. She's realizing in these past few days that she's just not _as_ important as he is to her. The man has two hearts and the greatest capacity to love she's ever seen in anyone, but it's not enough. Because there are so many people he's given pieces of his hearts to, and so many people he'll continue to give them to, she's afraid, soon she won't have any of him left to call her own. 

_While you were out building other worlds where was I?_

_Where's that man who threw blankets over my barbed wire?_

_I made you my temple, my mural, my sky._

_Now I'm begging for footnotes in the story of your life._

_Drawing hearts in the byline,_

_Always taking up too much space or time,_

_You assume I'm fine but what would you do if I-_

"Doctor, it's okay. I understand." 

The Doctor stares into her eyes silently for a moment, as if confirming for himself if she truly does. She wonders what he can see, because all she's really feeling at the moment is a bit numb to it all. 

The manic grin that takes over his face is a facade so weak she can see the doubt that's festering inside him on his face. But he won't say anything, she knows. Any further and the conversation would be too close to ‘ _you can spend the rest of your life with me but I can't spend the rest of mine with you.’_

She doesn't think either of them are strong enough for a conversation of that caliber yet. 

Instead, he stands up and extends a hand to her, "How about we go someplace? Somewhere safe and quiet for a change. Woman Wept. What about Woman Wept? You loved it last time."

For one terrifying second, she's left wondering when she ever went to Woman Wept with him, only to remember that she did, only he was different back then.

For all the Doctor's insistence that he hasn't changed at all, she can't help but view them as two different men. One of them, she keeps in her heart because she knew there was a time he loved her so much, he ached with it. 

This him, she'll remember to keep an arms length away, any closer to her heart and he might end up breaking whatever is left of it. 

_Break free and leave us in ruins,_

_Take this dagger in me and removed it,_

_Gain the weight of you then lose it._

_Believe me, I could do it._

"Maybe not Woman Wept." It's a beautiful memory, visiting that beautiful planet with that beautiful man. Nothing would ever compare to it. And she's afraid going there now, with this man, when she's feeling like she's on the precipice of falling somewhere so deep no one will ever be able to find her, she might end up tarnishing that memory. 

The Doctor's hesitates, looks like he's lost something precious and has no idea where to start looking, "No?" 

"No. Maybe we could ask Mickey where he wants to go." She gives him a cheeky grin, tongue in teeth but her eyes are a bit too vacant for it to have the same effect, "Bet he's got a list somewhere."

The Doctor blinks, turns away, but his hold on her hand tightens till the grip is almost desperate, "Okay. We'll ask Mickey."

It sounds like he's begging. 

She just doesn't know what for. 

**Author's Note:**

> that, ladies and gents, was my first angst in this fandom. i know i'm not very good at it. it's why i mostly just stick with good ol' fluff. i hate arguments and i tend to avoid them as best as i can, even if they're fictional. ergo, this one-shot.
> 
> still, i hope you liked it! kudos and comments are always appreciated!!
> 
> you can find me on:
> 
> tumblr:[ @ymnfilter ](https://ymnfilter.tumblr.com)  
> twitter:[ @ymnfilter ](https://twitter.com/ymnfilter)


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